Like A Tragedy

Katy and Zane are still riffing on this Romeo and Juliet nonsense? Sheathe your weapon Katy, Chief Lind expressly hath forbidden bandying in Milford streets. Did we really have to check in with these star crossed idiots again for a single panel accounting for half the tags on this post. Katy has all the chunky accoutrements and is posing in front of a prairie style window. It’s enough to make you plotz.

There’s more baseball to be played. Oh joy. Marty has to drag the crate out in the summer heat and document Zane Romeo Clark’s exploits on the mound. He’s probably sitting on a cooler full of iced cold Schlitz.

Round about the time Marty is cracking open his tenth beer, Valley Tech gets on the board and we watch a relay throw coming in from the outfield. Yawn. Is there any of that pie left?

Scott Kempner of The Dictators and The Del Lords, take it away:

Plot Pacing Is Hard, Too

I realize the Allen Funt/Candid Camera references are my colleague T. Drew’s thing but between yesterday’s and today’s strips I’m left wondering whether Kaz has been playing the long game by goading Gil into meddling with aspects of Milford society that are outside his wheelhouse until he finally gets himself caught in a trap he can’t walk out of. Swaying Allen Funt’s vote on the Library Board by bribing him with pie* doesn’t rise to Abscam levels but it’s a slippery slope from there to sexual favors for invitations to the Milford CC. Then Kaz will have sprung the trap that leads to him getting named Head Coach of all Milford boys’ sportsball teams and athletic director. No more moonlighting as a bouncer and mooching off Kelly Krystek for him then, nosireebob.

Just what kind of skids are being greased here, anyway? Have the codgers on the Library Board realized there’s no logical way they could let the Clark kid have the seat, no matter how strong his arguments are for preserving the status quo? Aren’t there enough of them already on the board to shoot down every Brito proposal and make him look like a jerk – which is SOP for him, anyway – in the process? And, as so many of you gentle readers have commented over the past several weeks, why couldn’t these decisions have been made almost immediately after Zane’s and Abel’s presentations before the board?

Because Rubin doesn’t know how to wrap a story arc up neatly anymore, that’s why. Corina’s college predestination could’ve been wrapped up last weekend and this nonsense the weekend before that, freeing Neal and the Chief to dive into some summer hijinks featuring a Milford alum and some non-revenue sport.

*Have you noticed how easily people in the Thorpiverse are swayed by free food? From Corina Karenna and the other Valley Mod kids last spring to this Allen Funt/Ed Asner lookalike, the offer of eats gets folks in the Valley to do one’s bidding cheap.

late-breaking metapost: Apparently American pies, like so many other things in America, are in crisis; according to this Washington Post editorial, store-bought pie crusts are to blame. I will own up to having used them, including for my start-of-the-pandemic sour orange pie, but I will not own up to having caused America to lose its way.

In any event, I encourage you to read the linked WaPo editorial (which showed up in my feed after the box score to yet another Nats loss, but also owes a tip of the hat to faithful TWIMer vaganova). You’ll learn much about the history of pie and its influence on American culture and probably be more entertained than by reading a week’s worth of Gil Thorp strips. It may even influence you to bake a pie to honor our country’s independence.

All summer long

It was 2021 his thoughts were short his hair was long

Caught somewhere between a boy and man

She was 17 but she was far from in between

It was summertime in northern Milfordland.

Zane was pitching part time

Washing floors had no time

That damn library board election went nowhere.

They didnt have no internet

But man they never will forget

The way Brito told Zane to comb his hair.

And Gil was drinking lemonade

Having cake with old man Abe

Making love in the library was Zanes favorite song.

Sipping coffee at Cantina

Not thinking bout graduation

Singing “Library Board Election” all summer long.

A Riddle, Wrapped In A Mystery, Inside A Conundrum.

What better way to assess this whole Stinkfest ’21 than with a remark Winston Churchill made about the Soviet Union when the country signed a Nazi-Soviet pact in 1939? You saw where both scenarios went. As I mentioned the other day, we sent one enfant terrible to her poetic justice and did it in short order. What are we going to do if Zane wins the election, have Butthead demand a recount? We only have 2 months until football, this month included, which commenced today, BTW.

Oh THERE’S an alternative, all right. Instead of Gil’s teaching the Jets how to get it on the green, we spend all of July watching two buttheads, not just one and by design, accuse the other of ballot-stuffing. Like I’m really interested in seeing if one of those twerpy library aides swiped some 3 x 5 index cards out of The Bookstore at Milford High School and wrote “Butthead” on each and every one, then flushed them down a ballot box when all the poll workers went to The Bucket for lunch. Boy, the ratings will go through the roof on that one.

Just remember, Gang. When you go to the polls for this one, DON’T vote a straight ticket. Vote the issues, not the Butthead.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Butthead To Appeal Voting Results After Questionable Practices Arise!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Concerns abound from notarization procedures in the 23rd Precinct.”

We not only may have to suffer through two months of poll-watching instead of golf-watching but another flurry of paraphernalia worthy of enshrinement into Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Let me count the ways.

Thorpiverse would have you convinced that that’s a fence or barricade surrounding the dumpster behind Hugo Drax’s spaceship. Hey, villains have to dump more than 007 in the trash such as Slurpee cups, Bucket Coffee mugs, Fruit of the Looms that have been irreversibly browned, Jaws’ outdated dentures, paper plates with potato salad stains from the Intergalactic Church Fellowship Supper, Diet Coke plastic 20oz. bottles (007’s last drink before the execution) , Miss Moneypenny’s Post-It notes, and Gil’s Red Man chaw.

But upon closer inspection, the fence is in FRONT of the prairie-style window, not on back, meaning the collection of objects is INSIDE the building. Since I really raise serious doubts about a dumpster being in the journalism room while Ms. Rizk is typing at a Sisyphean rate, my next logical guess is that they are seats, likely in a circle. But what would be the purpose? Does Ms. Rizk have everybody play Musical Chairs to Sarah Vaughan’s “Lullaby in Birdland” after they’ve done a run on another school newspaper? Do they sit in a circle and sing praises to Hare Krishna? Ravi Shankar on his sitar?

And if you look at the trees, there’s flip-a-coin perspective whether the trees are on the outside. Hey, class, let’s work on that Library Election Impasse story under the shade. You can sit by the tombstones if you like. Even though they look like trees, for once (at least chunky bracelets look like BRACELETS) , there’s still a hung jury on whether they are on solid ground or growing out of the water fountain. And if there’s ever a conundrum, look no further than the bird’s nest that’s been established on Zane’s head.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. At Loggerheads With Milford Election Investigation Team Due To Alleged Misunderstanding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“They called me at 11:00 at night and I thought it was some phone solicitor.”

Oh, let this go already, Zane. You got your honey back and the way Gil is lapping up to you, you’re going to get the ball the next time the Mudlarks play in August. Not that Gil is not a pro at licking his player’s cleats but when Gil is in rare face (kudos to Moon Mullins for the joke-I’m not even gonna try to top) , you know Zane ain’t going to be riding the pine anytime soon and might even get an invite to football the following week as a graduate redshirt (Valley Conference rules should have plenty of loopholes) if he’s a senior which I think he is (correct me if I’m wrong) but either way, he’s Gil’s Pet at this point.

Is T-verse really serious about Zane chucking what he just won back and then some just so he can win King of the Hill? Like there’s an All-Comers Competition for Library Trustee. This’ll be entertaining to watch Butthead beat back the challengers. Kind of an Iron Man quality to it. Just keep doing those knuckle push-ups, Butthead. We can’t lose the monopoly on who decides what Scientific American issues are acceptable to read as some might have profanity in them. Shoot, they might have a pin-up of the Head Librarian posing in the raw. You can never run too many miles in 10 degree weather to stay fit and trim.

Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

BUTTHEAD DEFEATS ZANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sub headline

“Zane holds newspaper in triumph with a cockiness not found since Truman won in ’48.”

And where are they GOING???? Don’t you love these hallway scenes where you assume they have a certain destination in mind? Now if you’ve been following Gilberto for 60 years, you KNOW that’s what you get for assuming. A lot of TWIM readers were stranded with Gilligan and the rest of crew when they boarded the S.S. Minnow and ASSUMED that hallway excursions such as today were 3-hour tours.

Now offhand, it is hard for me to imagine they are heading to anywhere baseball-related. Think about it. If Barney Fife is toting a backpack and Andy Taylor is wearing his MTV (Mayberry TV) again, they are not on their way to a bank robbery at Mayberry Federal Credit Union. As if Zane stores all his jock straps in his backpack or Coach Thorp stores all his under his MTV shirt. Oh, I get it, they’re going down to Milford Lounge. It’s Miller Time like it was for Team Mudlark the other day. Oh, don’t worry Zane, they won’t card you during Happy Hour. And Dr. Pearl, er, Bubbles McCall TAKES IT ALL OFF. Potsie told me and he played for me in ’59 so I know he wouldn’t lie. Just leave your backpack and attitude at the door.

No wait, they’re going to the races at the Milford 400. Doug Guthrie is a pit crew member who fuels Ricky Rudd. Can’t work with the tools yet. Need to get experience. He had more in that than he did on the basketball court. Then again, he had a great non-teacher. Lo and behold, they’ll reunite for times that really didn’t exist. Gil has that way.

If ya is the pit crew dude who’s in charge of puttin’ the olive in yore driver’s cocktail when he makes his routine pit stop and take tree-mendous pride in yore division of labor, ya might be a redneck.

THE GLOBBY PEOPLE RETURN!!!!!!!!! I am not sure which way they’re going when they are traipsing down the Uphallway but I’ll say for argument’s sake they have our backs to us. The pointed foot by Zane is a bit confusing and I had to spend several minutes surmising in which direction his leprechaun footwear was directing his business AND now everybody knows what Herman Munster looks like when he’s carrying a backpack in the dark Uphallway while conversing with Gil.

Gil is not off the hook. I can see his clipboard popping out which tips us off the direction they are indeed heading. Usually items like this are turned in all poi ts of the compass so that one gets the impression they are climbing the walks while going over Life and there have been times the clipboard resembles Doug’s wrench but I think we’re going to be okay for today. No Shadow Peoole hanging upside down from the ceiling, tethered to the lights by the shoestrings of their leprechaun shoes. That’s a relief.

At Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club entrance

“You ain’t 18. This is a fake ID.”

“But Mimi and I promised our boss we’d come watch her perform.”

When I saw a funeral home advertising about new lower prices on crematorium procedures

“We’ll be back to see if Zane and Gil return from that black hole they were sucked into at the end of the east wing at Milford High School on another episode of ‘That Gil’ after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

“When my great-grandfather had to be cremated as per his wishes in his will in large part to disguise the physical scars he bore from the Battle at Antietem, the family was overwhelmed by the significant costs to see him enter the Gates of Haeven through the Trial by Fire. Why add another Trial by Fire to the Walk with Jesus? Fortunately, he had a rich uncle that left him a largesse that covered the expenses and even financed the Trial by Fire. The family divided the rest.

Greetings, this is Dr. Pearl and I speak in the interests of Milford Funeral Solutions. They understand that pecuniary measures are taken into the equation when dealing with the dearly departed after they were to roll down the assembly line to burn in Heaven. That’s why they have lowered the costs to cremating your humanly treasures and have been able to implement said policies and still operate at maximum efficiency. I’d like my office staff to perform in said executions.

For example, we have lowered the temperature from 6,589 degrees to 3001 degrees. Research from Milford Community College Mortuart Science Department revealed that humans in their expired state are flammable in all facets of the cremation process and the ashes come out just as cleanly at 3000 degrees. Isn’t that lovely? It is grand to know that you have piece of mind when you are handed the jar of your Aunt Bertha. She went quietly and at a lower Centigrade. Priceless.

We have also replaced our Cremation Machinery with the latest state-of-the-art technology. I know when I lost my great-great-aunt when she was kicked in her cranium from an unwitting Flapper Girl, I was none-too-thrilled when a Model T contraption was the avenue of incineration when she left me for the Elysian Fields. Thank Heaven IBM intervened and proved that Deep Blue could not only defeat Garry Kasparov at chess but could ignite the Eternal Flame at a fraction of the xost. My great aunt is playing checkers with that same Flapper Girl at the Recreation. Room in the Sky.

And we have carried out cremation procedures with less bureaucracy than in past ventures and transactions. We have discovered through trial-and-error that there is little need for a cremator’s assistant. Why have a supernumerary presence when only one person is necessary to press the button to inflame the passion of memories associated with your Grandma Bubba? A cremation experience with a Shakespearean number of characters allows your family to stay within budget.

And we have also gathered from the data presented before our very being that funeral processions are a thing of the past when the torch is literally lit. Why stop the normal workaday world of Milford by halting traffic just to let a dead soul go through on his way to Living Hell? I personally could never converse with that gentleman cussing in his 4-wheel-drive at a random intersection.Your Dearly Departed will take the direct route to be rekindled with our Lord and Savior minus a police escort. Your Dearly Departed would have wanted it that way.

What more needs to be expounded upon? Please come and have your loved one know the concept of true peace while you keep your pocketbook intact, only at Milford Funeral Solutions. You will both climb the Stairway to Heaven.”

Relax, Gang. Gil and Zane should be back from the galaxy by football season. You just have to know the hallway system around Milford High School.

And God bless you, Gang.

At Milford Nudist Colony

“Mommy, why is Dr. Pearl called Bubbles?”

“Uhhhhhh, here, Keri, here’s a 50. You and Potsie get some lunch at Arnold’s.”

A Little Too Eager with the Swordfights, Methinks

A line that did not bear repeating gets repeated. At least it gives Zane a chance to practice Mimi’s ventriloquism trick. Time to pull out that old Rowan Atkinson decking Colin Firth clip again.

I’m as dumbfounded as many of you as to why the Library Board seat decision was not made soon after, if not immediately after, Zane and Abel had their little debate. In any event, a coffee bar has yet to pop up in the Milford Public Library though bringing one’s own coffee in and drinking it there is A-OK by the library staff.

On to the halls of Milford High before the Valley Tech game (which, we can only hope, is the season finale) and Gildeaux can’t help but notice Zanes’ postcoital flush rosy glow. Looking Chipper? I thought Zane was a pitcher/outfielder, not a third baseman.

Agents Of Folly

Allll at TWIM sit stunned

Wiiiishing this were gone

Sissies don’t fear The Brito

Nor does Maureen or Marty or Zane

They won’t be like he is

Come on, Katie (Don’t fear The Brito)

Baby, call his hand (Don’t fear The Brito)

Rudely tell him to fly (Don’t fear The Brito)

Baby, jerkwater man

La la la la la

La la la la la

A thousand thank you’s from you whippersnappers for allowing me to indulge in Blue Oyster Cult one more time, the Romeo and Juliet remark from Katy inspiring me to churn the wheels from their classic “Agents of Fortune”. The inanity of the plot made the rest of the task a downhill venture.

And let’s slurp and kiss and make up, even if the Diet Pumpkin Pie Latte stayed in the Mr. Coffee contraption one brew cycle too many. Isn’t that just romantic? Katie’s lips and tepid White Chocolate Chip cappuccinos, if that isn’t a sequel to Love Story, love is never having to stomach Gil and Mimi’s verandah quickies. And I’m betting nobody is holding their breath that Katie’s romantic flames are going to keep raging such as today, especially if Zane is right and Butthead gets his comeuppance.

“Katie, your dad was defeated by a 3-to-1 margin.”

“Oh well, sometimes you bite Gil and other times Gil bites you. Let’s move to the Detective section and kiss. Patrons are beginning to notice.”

A more likely scenario

“Katie, I came in and kicked some booty!!!!!!!”

“Well, you’ll be kicking alone. And don’t spill that lukewarm Sanka all over your shirt. See you later, alligator.”

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Business College Delays Concert At Principal Ek Memorial Recital Hall Due To Latest Conflict!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We’re are optimistic that the upcoming Blue Oyster Cult rendition will not conflict with the football contest that evening.”

Why are our characters drawn as if The Excorcist has to make weekly rounds at the Milford Public Library? Zane has a face today that only a mother in Hades could love. Katie might not want to get too smoochie-faced with Zane if he gets too possessed and vomits his lukewarm Slushee all over her outfit.

YOUR MOTHER DRINKS LUKEWARM HOT CHOCOLATE IN HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE POWER OF GIL COMPELS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOUR FATHER READS HARLEQUIN NOVELS IN THE RAW AT THE LIBRARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE POWER OF GIL COMPELS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOUR MOTHER READS THOSE TOMES BEHIND ZANE AND KATIE JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE POWER OF GIL COMPELS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shoot, why stop at the library? The Excorcist gets hungry too

YOUR MOTHER EATS BURNED BUCKET TRIPLE DECKERS IN HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE POWER OF GIL COMPELS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

And 100%? Yeah, uh huh. When we divided up Berlin at the Potsdam Conference, the Russians never threw a wall into the discussion. Just build it and hope NATO shuts up. I’d be building Checkpoint Charlie around this so-called romance anyhow.

If ya go ta the Quickee Mart ta nuke yore coffee cuz it wasn’t lukewarm enough ta wake ya up before ya clock inta work at the Milford Salvage Yard, ya might be a redneck.

Valentine is done

Here but wish they’re gone

Romeo and Juliet are together in the library (frittering our precious time)

40,000 minutes wasted everyday (on Romeo and Benatar)

40,000 Diner dinners everyday (redefine happiness)

Another 40, 000 shipped in everyday (we can eat like they are)

Come on, Katie (Don’t fear The Brito)

Baby, spit on his hand (Don’t fear The Brito)

Spider catchin’ the fly (Don’t fear The Brito)

Baby, he’s no man.

P1 leading into P2 reminds me of people I know that are constantly picking at you and finally when you’ve had enough, they get suddenly sickeningly sweet with you. But you really need to take this rapprochement in stride because just when you are ready to leave once the Right Hand of Fellowship has been established, they zap you with “You’re going to go jogging in those shoes?” or ” You put ketchup on your fries?”. The message is clear. The lamb is still a wolf, sucka.

So when Katie says she is 100% recommited, I’ve seen a lot of souls rededicating their lives at the altar at Milford Southern Baptist Church get the cuffs put on them two weeks later after shoplifting Wonder Bread at Milford. You better exhale, and fast. Especially when Zane chimed in with a zap of his own. It’s bad enough that The Great Library Debate will be laying over into July but cheap shots from the bleachers are just prolonging this dead horse. The Excorcist doesn’t do resurrections.

And where the Hell are they going to sneak to? The basement of Butthead’s house? Sure, go in the den and act like Romeo and Juliet while Butthead is snoring in bed upstairs. Just don’t play billiards after an hour of vigorous kissing. Scratching the 8 ball might wake him up. And ping pong is definitely out. And sneaking to the Mudlark Lake Access Site is really not a great idea either. No, Butthead might not launch his fishing boat in the water at 11:33PM but Marty and Peaches might have already taken the spot. And what if Marty sees you? Being the ever-lovin’ snake he’s been for 60 years, don’t bank on Moon Man lookingvthe other way on romance and flat coffee under a full moon (pardon the pun). Maybe try Milford Lounge. Well, nobody would notice. And if you can get fake ID’s from the same guy Richie the C and Potsie used to get into Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club, you’re in business.

At The Bucket

“Oh man, we were made in the shade. She’s humping that pole like she’s at a playground and shakin’ her booty to ‘Earth Angel’ and then at midnight SHE TOOK IT ALL OFF!!!!!!!!”

“Potsie, that’s no way to talk about Dr. Pearl. She’s just moonlighting.”

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Brokering A Deal With Officials Involved With Blue Oyster Cult!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I want some football. I’ll gladly fork over $10, 000 if they’ll move the concert to the open date on our schedule.”

Oh brother. I am grateful for all the TWIMer readers and their Romeo and Juliet references because they’re funny and they puncture the remaining (we pray to the Heavens) plot on the docket. But I’m sorry, I am not ready to watch this sudden West Side Story story get dragged into July. Katie, I just met a girl named Katie, and now I know that name will never be same by football season. Hoo boy. And Thorpiverse will get so desperate, Gil will try to get the Jets and the Sharks to put down their switchblades and challenge each other to a golf match. And Katie will spend all of July finding more trysts. Try Gil’s office, Katie, nobody goes in there anyway.

We’ve already sent one problem child packing. We have room on the Greyhound to ship this Leonard Bernstein-wannabe to the next hemisphere.

At the entrance to Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club

“You ain’t 18. These are fake ID’s.”

“Whattya mean? Me and Mrs. Brito have been coming here for years.”

“And we’ll be back to see if Dr. Pearl finally takes it all off at the Principals Convention after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

In the Mudlark Lake Boat Launching Site parking lot one late evening

“DAMN!!!!!! I thought Zane and Katie would never leave!!!!!! But he finally put his fishing rod in the trunk. Okay, Peaches, we’re all alone. And like McFadden & Whitehead once said, ain’t no stopping me now.”

“Oh Marty, you say the dirtiest things!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sudden silence. You can hear a squirrel gathering acorns

“What’s up? You were my slave, now you’re no better than a bear pooping in the woods.”

“Marty, a bear would have more in the back than you do in the front.”

“Lovey Dovey, I am harder than the asphalt. Don’t leave the driveway this way.”

“But you don’t have enough to pour the cement into the driveway. I’d rather have sex with anyone but a man who has an oak twig for a phallic symbol.”

“Peaches, I got chewed out by my station manager for cutting out early on the broadcast. Some graduate student in broadcasting from Milford Community College had to do the interview with Gil.”

“At least you would have gotten more out of that than I’m getting out of you. A raccoon would pump up bigger than you and he just rummages through the dumpster.”

“Peaches, I’m hornier than a possum. Just try to overlook the minor details and let’s have some fun!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, this is pretty minor, all right. It looks like possum roadkill.”

“Peaches, I have a few injector needles left in my briefcase. Milford Men’s Clinic guarantees with their patented formula that your significant other is thicker than an Oscar Meyer wiener or your money back. I’ll be right back.”

“I was lucky. She was ready to sleep in the wild but Milford Men’s Clinic bailed me out once again and we did it in the woods and Mother Nature came alive. Don’t literally get caught with your pants down. Come to the professionals at Milford Men’s Clinic and get peace of mind with your sex life. Let the fun begin.”

Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Rumors Finally Confirmed That Dr. Pearl Is Actually Bubbles McCall At Mildord Girls-A-Go-Go Club!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: ‘Man o Man, me and Potsie were gettin’ charged watching her shake them prunes.'”

Love to see this done

We would love them gone

Came the last night of sadness

And it was clear we couldn’t go on

Then the door stayed open and this crap adhered

Gil just blew and then disappeared

The library closed and then he appeared

Saying “Out of the way”

Come on, Baby (And she had no cheer)

And she ran to him (Then they started to fry)

They looked at Zane and said goodbye (She was a lout like he is)

She had taken his hand (She was cheap like he is)

Come on, Baby (Don’t fear The Brito)…

Lukewarm? All The Heat Has Escaped By Now

There was another baseball game against Oakwood. All we are shown is victorious fist bumping after a win. That’s actual action…of a sort.

There isn’t time or space to give us a glimpse at the post game festivities at The Bucket. The narration box suggests that Zane Clark attended the festivities at The Bucket before heading to the library for more studying. I wonder if Mr. Brito drives by to see how late the library stays open and counts cars in the parking lot.

Well, look who’s bringing Zane some of that (tepid) Coffee Cantina brew. It’s Katie Brito! So things are good between these two. Zane references his coffee idea for the library*. Ha ha ha. Can we freeze and roll credits on these lamoids now.

*Yeah, the library should be operating and staffing a coffee stand that will be open just in case Zane (or the homeless guy who sleeps behind the unplugged microfiche reader) needs a caffeine fix. That’s a great use of community resources.

Mimi Thorp, Ventriloquist

Late post today because (a) this isn’t an arc-ender (or at least it doesn’t read like one) and (b) I had to do some Thorpiverse time travel to fact-check today’s strip.

Second thing first. About this Debbie Roy thing: the story arc Gil refers to predates this blog, to spring 2004 in fact. Debbie Roy served as a potential love interest for the boy on the softball team, Joe Clifford. Clifford’s Lady Mudlark career was about as successful as his efforts with Debbie. It’s worth noting, however, that Mimi did not have a boy on the softball team, as Mimi was NOT coaching the Lady Mudlarks at that time. Someone named “Coach Jensen” was at the helm. (Here’s what Mimi looked like at the time so no, it wasn’t Mimi in a brunette wig role-playing as Holly Dobbs for Gil.) Seventeen years later, Mimi throws her voice to explain that a mid-thirties Debbie stepped up to play a role in Mimi’s Project Corina…

… except maybe it’s not only Mimi’s Project Corina but also Mama Karenna’s. It’s settled, then: Corina’s “caring for her mentally ill mother” and “my grades are bad” excuses are simply that, excuses. Excuses for not going to football games on Friday nights, for essentially lying to Mimi about her grades, for not applying to colleges. Still trying to figure out which one of them forged Corina’s applications (if any), and still trying to imagine Mama Karenna physically giving Corina the boot. I’m picturing something like the opening credits for Top Gear‘s “The Interceptors.”